In the aftermath of the Bondi mass shooting, doctors and nurses at a Sydney hospital have been providing around-the-clock care to the man accused of murdering 15 people and injuring 40 others.

It’s a tough ask for healthcare professionals who must leave their personal feelings at the door to provide the same level of care afforded to all patients in Australia.

Naveed Akram, 24, has been under police guard and charged with 59 offences in a bedside court hearing following the massacre at a Jewish celebration on December 14.

The wounded were taken to multiple hospitals across Sydney, including Akram who was shot by police during the harrowing attack.

It will have been a difficult time for healthcare workers – having to be in the same room as the accused, talking to him and touching him to do assessments and provide care.

While the police presence keeps staff physically safe, the mental and emotional toll is more complicated.

To some extent that will be impacted by how Akram has behaved as a patient – if he’s quiet and cooperative or loud and unpleasant.

As an ICU nurse in Melbourne, I’ve been thinking about those healthcare workers a lot and hoping they know that many of us have them in our thoughts.

There is a heightened emotional frequency in the air when high-profile patients land in our care.

Tragic events require a careful response to balance different interests – patient care and confidentiality, staff safety and wellbeing, shocked family members, media inquiries, and the needs of police and their investigation.

When both victims and perpetrators need medical care, the aim is to put them in different hospitals or areas, so they are nowhere near each other and their loved ones aren’t coming face to face in waiting rooms or crossing paths in hallways.

Working in healthcare is so much more complex than trying to fix broken bodies.

I have seen and looked after many accused and convicted criminals who have been brought to hospital with either police officers or prison guards.

One of the worst cases I remember was a domestic violence perpetrator who had killed two members of his family.

As he recovered from his own injuries, he showed zero remorse for his crimes and his behaviour towards female nursing staff was vile and offensive.

That’s the thing about choosing a career helping others. You don’t get to pick and choose who those people are and not everyone who needs our help is a good person.

I remember looking after another maximum-security prisoner who had been badly assaulted. This huge, scary looking man had been incarcerated for so long that he politely addressed us as Miss – yes Miss, thank you Miss, excuse me Miss.

There is something jarring about seeing someone cuffed to a hospital bed and being guarded by police with guns on their hips. Of course, it is the consequence of their own actions – heinous crimes that destroyed lives – but as a nurse it can still feel strange and unsettling.

Some nurses, where possible, try not to know the patient’s crimes so that their professionalism and compassion isn’t tainted.

I think that’s how a lot of us cope with patients who have done bad things, by looking at the bigger picture of why we do what we do.

Our purpose isn’t about one person, it’s about the standard we want to set for our whole community.

It’s like we’ve all got a role to play in protecting a civilised society and an equitable healthcare system is a hugely important part of that.

My job is to save lives and to show kindness to every patient I cross paths with.

And if a person has done terrible things, you can think of their victims and how important it is for them to see justice served.

Once we’re done our jobs, the people who work in the criminal justice system can do theirs.

It’s sometimes a really difficult and challenging profession and that’s why my thoughts are with the healthcare workers in Sydney right now who have stepped up during one of our country’s darkest times.